Received some saddening news a couple of weeks ago that the offices at KIMTA had been broken into overnight by thieves who then stole a television, computers, the generator and a significant amount of cash. The bitter irony here is that KIMTA is working day and night to try and improve the lives of many living in Kibera, and yet those who stole from them most probably live just around the corner. In a way it sums up the current state of affairs in the area if it wasn't obvious enough already.
This has woken me up somewhat on the fundraising side of things, i've already reached my target of £2000 but more can be raised, especially in light of such recent circumstances.
Back to my training...I've run a half marathon (saturday) and full marathon (sunday) on each of the last three weekends, which will continue for the near future. Next week marks my first double marathon weekend, of which as you may imagine I am looking forward to with much excitement. The main thing that I need to do is keep nailing the weekend runs and maintain the shorter distances during the week (10 miles and some sprint/resistance training) over the next month or so and staying free of injury. Every mile under my belt is so valuable at this stage of my training.
Today (which is a Saturday) I managed to get a half marathon in when my sister dropped me off on the way down to Kent from London and I ran home along the River Medway before cutting east for the last few miles.
The whole run felt slightly cartoonish as will be revealed in the next few passages of writing.
First of all, upon joining the footpath along the river I was surprised to find it extremely serene and quiet, which in itself is odd considering it's proximity to Maidstone. Maidstone isn't exactly an image of beauty for those who didn't know already. I even managed to the a Bird. Yes, that's right. A real bird (Pigeons don't count) so close to a noisy, polluted excuse for a town. For budding ornothologists, and I indeed used to be one of those before it became less cool (or was it ever cool?!) my feathery friend was a Cormorant, spreading it's wings to dry in the summer sun.
There is a bird in this picture, I promise
Soon my bubble of paradise was burst as when I rounded the corner I stumbled straight into a Hen party that was having some rowdy afternoon drinks outside a Pub by the river. As if this wasn't terrifying enough, immediately behind them were a separate group of men enjoying a stag do at the same establishment. One would expect it to be more intimidating to run past a group of testosterone/alcohol fueled alpha males on a stag weekend but in this case the complete opposite occurred. I wouldn't dare repeat some of the profanities that were aimed at me from some of the red-faced lager-lapping lovelies seated around the soon to be wife. Luckily enough these little pieces of heaven weren't up for the chase and upon seeing them off I ran through the Stag group expecting more of the same. Instead of a torrent of abuse, I was actually greeted with a few words of encouragement and one bloke even reached out of the crowd to hand me a bottle of water.
(Image of hen party was meant to be inserted here but was understandably censored by Google)
I continued for another couple of miles and it was then that I began to hear a high pitched whining sound coming down the river towards me. Squinting my eyes I could make out a tiny little speed boat with a very jolly looking man seated inside it. As the boat approached it soon became apparent that this boat wasn't getting any bigger and was indeed the smallest speed-boat I had ever seen/ever will see. It zipped past me and I had to chase it back down the river a while in order to get a good enough picture. The poor chap in the boat must have thought I was intending to dive into the river and commandeer his boat. As he sailed on towards the gates of hell which I had just run through, I imagined the headline tomorrow morning on the Kent Gazette "Hen party harpees scupper Medway micro-boat".
The last known sighting of micro-boat man
Soon after this a swarm of high-vis vest wearing cub scouts on their 12-speed mountain bikes came whizzing past, armed to the teeth with swiss army knives, maps, binoculars and water-proof watches. My heart sank as I imagined what they were soon to experience around the corner. A better man would have warned them away from that pub of doom, but the image of such a confrontation between the team of scouts and dribbling hen-party honeys was too great to prevent. I regret not going back to observe this rare clash of the titans, imagine the tales I could tell.
Upon continuing I came across a scout lagging behind, clearly unsure which path to take at the fork in the road he had reached. The thought did cross my mind that it would be quite funny to harmlessly send him the wrong way, however my morals got the better of me and I directed him down towards where his friends had just passed. Who knows, he may have been safer if I had sent him the wrong way. We'll never know...
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The rest of the run was relatively boring in comparison, and not worthy of mention. I will therefore sign off with another plug. Thank you for everyone's continued support in my run and the cause behind it, if there is anyone who you feel would want to donate to such a worthy cause then please don't hesitate to forward this blog onto them or my justgiving page at www.justgiving.com/fireandicekibera/
I need to get some rest, another marathon tomorrow (help)
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